


6 Times Mulder Complimented Scully on What She Was Wearing and 1 Time He Complimented What She Wasn't

by mldrgrl



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:54:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23085841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mldrgrl/pseuds/mldrgrl
Summary: The title says it all
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 12
Kudos: 147





	6 Times Mulder Complimented Scully on What She Was Wearing and 1 Time He Complimented What She Wasn't

Year 1

He’d finished his slideshow only moments before and had already shrugged into his overcoat, ready to head out the door. He waited for her by the lightswitch, waiting as she gathered her bag and her coat. She stopped though, when he didn’t move out of the doorway, blocking the exit with his arm across the door, trigger-finger on the switch.

“Mulder?” She lifted her brow in question.

“What color would you call that?” he asked, reaching out to tug on the pocket of her blazer.

“Oh, um?”

“Lavender? Or periwinkle?”

“I think periwinkle is a little more blue. Lavender, probably. Why?”

“Just wondering. It brings out your eyes.”

“Oh.”

“I like it.” He flicked the switch and moved out of the doorway so she could pass by.

She hesitated for a few moments, embarrassed without knowing quite why. “Thanks,” she murmured.

*****

Year 2

He haunted the doorway of her hospital room, pacing the hall and checking every ten minutes or so to see if she’d awoke yet. Finally, when he’d peaked through the narrow glass window, her eyes were open and he pushed the door open with a smile.

“Hey,” he said.

“Mulder?” She sat up a little straighter and nervously adjusted the sheets over her hips.

“Don’t get up on my account,” he teased. “Just came to see how you were feeling today.”

“Good. Fine. I think. I still don’t…”

“It doesn’t matter.” 

The gold cross he’d held onto and returned to her twinkled when she nodded slightly, catching the sunlight streaming through the window, and his eye. She looked down and plucked at the loose, drab yellow hospital gown for a moment.

“I must look awful,” she said.

He shook his head. She was radiant, compared to two days ago, with tubes and wires going in and out of her every which way. He couldn’t tell her that, though. Not about how frightened he was, seeing her like that.

“I hear hospital gown is the new black,” he said.

She smiled just a little.

*****

Year 3

“I need a new tailor,” he said, apropos of nothing, as they exited the airport terminal and headed to long-term parking.

“Oh?” she said, scanning the lot up ahead for section B.

“My guy is retiring, end of the month.”

“Oh.”

“Who do you use?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, obviously yours is great.”

“Obviously?”

“Well yeah. Six months or so you switched to pantsuits and you know, you being so sho...small in stature, I imagine you’d need to get those taken up. And let me tell you, the length is damn near perfect and the stitching is top quality. I want someone to make me look that good too.”

She choked a little on disbelief and stopped short. “Mulder…”

“What? I’m a trained investigator Scully, I notice these things.”

“I’ll...uh, I’ll get a business card for you. The shop is on M Street.”

“Great! Maybe we can start wearing matching suits to work.”

“In your dreams, Mulder.”

*****

Year 4

She’d signed for the delivery with some hesitation, insisting she hadn’t ordered anything from Bloomingdale’s, but the delivery man was equally as insistent that he had a package for Dana Scully and needed her signature. She brought the shopping bag in and pulled a long, white box out of it, setting it in the middle of her table.

Tentatively, as though she might be handling a bomb, she lifted the lid off the box. Whatever was inside was wrapped in tissue paper that crinkled as she unwrapped the gift. She gasped when she pulled out a plush, white robe. A plain notecard fell to the floor and she picked it up. It was blank on one side and the other simply said: SCULLY.

“Mulder,” she whispered. “What did you do?”

It took her ten minutes of pacing her kitchen to finally call him. He answered on the second ring. “Mulder.”

“Mulder, it’s me,” she said.

“Oh, hey Scully.”

“What did you do?”

“No telling. How much trouble am I in and I’ll try to guess.”

“I just got a delivery. From Bloomingdale’s.”

“Oh, good.”

“What did you...I mean, why…”

“It’s soft, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“Not that you didn’t look all cute and cozy in that other robe you have, but this one is softer.”

“You didn’t...you shouldn’t have done this.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Just think of it as a belated birthday present.”

“You already got me a keychain.”

“I could take it back.”

“Is it returnable?”

“I don’t know, I picked it up at a gas station off I-81.”

“The robe?”

“No, the keychain.” He chuckled. “Just enjoy it, Scully, you deserve it.” He hung up then and she was left with silence. She hung up the dead phone and then stroked the collar of her new robe. It was one of the softest things she’d ever felt.

*****

Year 5

“It says here we’re going to have to do a little hiking,” he said.

She closed the pamphlet for the conference and sighed. “Fantastic.”

“Pack light, pack that blue jacket you have.”

“What blue jacket?”

“That windbreaker, the pullover. With the pocket in the front.”

“You know, Mulder, sometimes it’s a little disconcerting how familiar you are with my wardrobe.”

“Nah, I only remember the really important pieces.”

“Important, meaning?”

“You know, those little pieces that go together really well or are particularly flattering.”

“And the blue windbreaker is...flattering?”

He shrugged. “It’s blue. You look good in blue.”

*****

Year 6

They were two beers in on Mulder’s couch, a Yankees v. Blue Jays game on mute on the television. Mulder got up to toss his bottle and then stopped on his way back, running his finger along the collar of her jacket, draped over the back of the chair next to the TV.

“I think this is the least practical you’ve ever been,” he said.

“Hm?” she answered, lifting her beer bottle up to inspect it.

“Suede. Very impractical. Very hard to take care of.”

“I can say the same about you.”

“Hah.” He snort-laughed and then plopped down beside her again on the couch. “If I were an article of clothing I’m more likely to be a sweaty, ratty t-shirt.”

“No, more like a well-worn sweatshirt.”

He rolled his head towards her and smiled a little. She gave him a glance, but then quickly looked away and took a sip of her beer.

“What about you?” he asked.

“What about me?”

“What would you be?”

“I don’t know.”

“I think you’d be...something woolen.”

“Woolen?”

“Yeah. Scratchy, but warm.”

“Scratchy, but warm,” she repeated with a slight frown.

“Wool is strong, it’s versatile, and you know, wool from the vicuña is the most expensive fabric in the entire world, only collectible once every two to three years from the same animal. It’s rare and precious.”

“How do you know so much about fabrics, Mulder?”

“I’m a connoisseur. Come on, Clemens, you can throw better than that!”

Scully took another sip of her beer and tried to turn her focus to the game, but she was lost in thought. Scratchy. Warm. Strong. Versatile. Rare. Precious. Scratchy?

“I’m glad you splurged on that jacket though,” Mulder suddenly said.

“You are?”

“It looks amazing on you.”

*****

Year 7

The faucet in his bathroom was still leaking, even though the super swore he’d fix it while Mulder was out of town for the weekend. Still though, he could hear the drip, drip, drip from bed, even over the tree branches that tapped at the window from the light breeze. He turned onto his side from his back and lay face to face with his partner. She was asleep, or so he thought. When he traced a heart on her bare shoulder, her eyes opened and she gave him a drowsy smile.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” she answered.

“I was just thinking.”

“It’s late.”

“Or early, depending on your point of view.”

“What were you thinking?”

“I’ve never seen that green sweater you were wearing before.”

“It’s new.” She yawned, closed her eyes, and snuggled a little deeper into his pillow. “Why? Don’t like it?”

“It looks better on my floor.”

She chuckled, but kept her eyes closed. “With lines like that, I can’t imagine how it took seven years for you to get me into bed.”

“Reconsidering your choices?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” She reached up blindly and took his hand off her shoulder, tucking it under her chin to press a kiss to his knuckles. “Do you want me to wake you when I get up?”

“No, I’ll be too sad.”

“Why? You’ll see me again in less than two hours, probably.”

“Yeah, but you won’t be as naked as you are right now.”

“True. Not unless the bureau has changed their dress code without me knowing.”

“Will you wear the navy blazer?”

“Sure.”

“And the white top. The cotton one, not the silk one.”

“Cotton, not silk. Mmhm.”

“Wait.”

Scully yawned again. “Hm?”

“Now I’m just thinking, maybe you should wear something less tempting. You still have that giant, puffy, blue and pink and green jacket?”

“I’m afraid that was burned in quarantine, obviously for the better.”

“Darn.”

“Mulder?”

“Hm?”

“Go to sleep.”

“Okay.” He turned over onto his back again and a few moments later, Scully inched her way closer and draped an arm over his chest.

“The dark Armani suit, with a white shirt, and the red tie,” she murmured. 

“What about it?”

“It’s my favorite.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He gave her a squeeze and closed his eyes.

The End


End file.
